Full Circle
by Redmarl
Summary: Most people lose their first love. Many people move on. Some people don't ever feel the same. And a few come back full circle. Grojband has split and the four members have gone their separate ways. Laney and Corey haven't seen each other since they broke up after high school, but seven years later, they meet again by chance... or is it by fate?
1. A Coincidence

**Author's note: I'm very busy with my studies and can't update frequently but I'll attempt to at least have an update once every two months. **

**The story takes place after Grojband has broken up and are in their 20s. I wanted, as I do with most of my writing, to weave in a message about life despite the more juvenile mood of the show, and I think in the end it'll be best understood by older teenagers or young adults. Of course, slightly younger readers may still enjoy it just for the whole CoreyxLaney theme, but if you're able to pick up more than just the romance, I hope you find the fanfic meaningful. **

**Also, I don't avidly watch the show (I just really like the CoreyxLaney pairing) so I'm sorry if I mess up any little details that hardcore fans would be aware of. **

**Cheers!**

Chapter 1: A Coincidence

"What floor would you like?" Asked a man in a suit when Laney stepped into the elevator.

"Eighth, please. Thanks." She noticed that the button had already been pressed.

The man smiled. "Oh, are you here for the internship, too?"

"Yes," she answered, her face expressionless.

"Did you just graduate?"

"Would rather not say."

"Alright." The man hesitated. "Well, uh, your skirt looks lovely on you."

"Thank you," she said, though seemingly not pleased. The entire time, she had not even made eye contact with him. Her terse, deadpan responses began making him uncomfortable and he decided not to speak another word.

The last thing the man had the heart to say was, "This elevator music is catchy." It might be said that this innocuous line was the most successful in inciting any meaningful reaction from Laney. Of course, a smirk probably wasn't the reaction he'd been hoping for.

They left the elevator speechlessly and were greeted by a neatly-dressed but probably overworked woman in her mid-thirties. "Interns this way, please," she said politely.

Laney's curious gaze flitted all over the room but was met with dull gray cubicles, boring desks, depressing stacks of paperwork, and the intense, focused faces of the people who actually wanted to be here.

"... and your desk, Ms. Penn, is here. If you need anything, just ask Eric over there in the office. The band will be here in a few minutes." The overworked woman looked at her watch. "Make yourself comfortable, I suppose, in the meantime. Good day." She strode swiftly off before Laney could thank her, and the new intern was left to face the unexciting reality. Well, she'd be out of here by 6 in the evening; she needed the money, anyway. She looked for the man in the suit she'd encountered earlier; he had been assigned a desk four cubicles down. Hopefully he wouldn't come back to look for her.

Knowing that the cubicle was shared by a couple of different interns throughout the week, she simply sat in the swivel chair without setting up anything. She knew the work would involve, say, making coffee for people or organizing papers, which were all terribly boring things. At least she'd still be able to do some work with a band that had been commissioned to write a jingle for the company's new shower product.

Laney thought of her days as Grojband's bassist. Music on the weekends, gigs every month, late-night movies with the guys. Adventures, dares, wacky situations. Real tunes and heart-racing rhythms and, to her ears, the most talented voice in the world. She hadn't heard it in a while.

She still lived a life of music, just a bit differently, was all, and she had found new friends at university. She'd played in a couple of gigs, too, but being in other bands just didn't feel the same and she never stuck around for long. What had happened was really a shame, she thought to herself as her finger traced the paint lines on her desk. But you could only move forward.

The overworked woman returned. "The band's here. Take this folder - I said _take _it - and follow me. And make sure you don't drop any papers, I'm too busy to pick up after interns."

The woman led Laney through some hallways, down some stairs, past several doors, and around many turns before finally reaching a door with the shiny sign "PRACTICE ROOM."

"Alright, you're in here for now. Your instructions and all are in your file folder, and a couple other people will be in with you in fifteen minutes. Introduce yourself, be polite, yada yada yada, and don't screw up."

"Wait, but - "

"It's all in your folder. Don't come to me until you've read it all." The woman walked briskly back out the room, and once again Laney was left to ponder her situation.

There were three men in the room and a drum set had been set up in the corner. The practice room was fairly roomy, though still smaller than the garage her own band had played in years before. "Uh, hey, my name's Laney, and I'm here to help out with the jingle. What're your names?" She figured that was a good place to start, even if she hadn't opened the folder to figure out exactly what to do yet.

"I'm Meck," said the man in jeans. "I'm the lead vocalist, nice to meet you, Laney!" He held out his hand.

Laney smiled and shook it. Band members were much easier to get along with than the prissy guys in suits sitting in cubicles.

"John!" Shouted another man, this one in khaki shorts, from behind Meck. "I'm John!" He waved. "I'm your drummer."

"Ricky," said the man fiddling with the amplifier. "I do keyboard and lyrics. And I fix stuff in general."

"Cool," Laney said, shaking hands with each of them. "Three-piece band, huh?"

Meck looked around the room. "Four. Our other guitarist was in here just now but I don't see him."

"I'm over he-" a blue-haired young man in a t-shirt and sweats popped his head out from the closet.

Laney, upon seeing him, was dumbstruck.

"Corey?!"

"Laney?!"

There were a few seconds' silence.

John said quietly, "Bro. That's awkward."


	2. A Cup of Coffee

**Author's Note #2: So at this point I have 3/4 of the story planned out, which will definitely help me update in a more timely manner. When finished, Full Circle will be around 30 chapters plus a couple of "special chapters" for fun (and to embellish the main story.) I'll be releasing the first few chapters more quickly just to get the story going.**

Chapter 2: A Cup of Coffee

Laney stepped off the subway and made her way back up to the main street. Somewhere in the back of her mind she secretly hoped that Corey wouldn't show up at the coffee shop. Having to see him again was bad enough, and she couldn't believe he'd had the audacity to ask for her number without any context or explanation and after seven years of no contact.

At least, she thought, she'd been fortunate that two full-time employees had arrived to oversee the project before things had gotten too awkward. Corey and Laney hadn't needed to say a word to each other for the rest of the band session, and Meck, John, and Ricky didn't seem to mind.

Ultimately Laney had refused to disclose her number; but when Corey asked if she would be willing to meet him at Le Café Doux later that night, she reluctantly agreed. Laney instantly regretted it afterward.

She turned right at the end of the block and spotted the coffee shop. Opening the door, she couldn't spot anyone with blue hair, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Someone tapped her shoulder and she spun around.

"Hey, Lanes," said Corey, though somewhat nervously. He was dressed in jeans and a hoodie along with a black-and-red cap. The bags under his eyes looked a bit more pronounced than from the last time she'd seen him, and there were bits of stubble on his face where he hadn't shaved cleanly.

"Long time," said Laney sternly.

"Yeah." Corey paused. "Definitely," he added quickly, in the hopes of remaining casual.

Laney started toward an empty table and Corey followed. Laney sat down.

"Uh, I'm gonna get something to eat first," said Corey. He turned toward the counter, and then looked back. "Er, do you want anything?"

"If I want anything, I'll get it myself," she answered.

Corey returned with a medium-sized cup of coffee and a small cake, as well as two forks. "So what's been up for you lately?"

Laney eyed the forks. "You obviously didn't hear me."

"I mean, I did, I just figured, y'know. Just in case."

"Hmm." Laney took the fork but didn't touch the cake. "I've been fine. Grad school. You?"

"You're pretty smart, huh." Corey spoke between gulps of coffee. "I just finished college a few years back and I found a new band." Gulp. "Do you still play?"

"Little bit, here and there."

"Okay. That's cool."

Laney fingered the fork, unable and unwilling to make eye contact. She tried to read the faded letters on his shirt - they seemed to spell "RAD."

"You don't want anything?"

"Did your memory deteriorate that badly?"

Corey chuckled a little, but Laney was entirely unamused.

Laney took a breath and said, "How've you been doing after the breakup?"

"Pretty good, I guess. Yeah."

She nodded slowly. "Nice to know."

There were a few minutes of silence. Corey finished his coffee and stood to dispose of the cup. The cake remained undisturbed when he returned.

"It's chocolate, y'know," said Corey. "Your favorite, right?"

"Oh." Laney remained uninterested.

Silence. An hour had passed and only two or three tables remained occupied.

"Corey, what'd you invite me over here for? It's not like we have anything really worth talking about."

"I was just happy to see you, that's all."

Laney scoffed. "You sure didn't look _happy _when you saw me in the practice room."

"Surprised. Then happy. I haven't seen Kin or Kon in a long time, either."

"They're on the other side of the country now."

"Yeah, you still talk to them?"

"A little."

They stopped talking. Corey picked up his own fork and took a bite of cake. He chewed slowly, swallowed, and took another piece. Laney whipped out her phone and began reading. She only looked up when Corey got up again to throw away the forks and foam plate. Before he returned, Laney stood and began buttoning her jacket.

Corey was visibly surprised. "You didn't eat anything, Lane."

"I guess I wasn't hungry."

"You want to get some pizza or - "

"No. No, I'm fine, thank you." Laney walked briskly past him and out the door without even so much as a gesture of farewell. She'd have to see him again tomorrow, and she couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand talking to him and she couldn't stand how frustrating he was and she didn't even know why she hadn't just rejected his invitation in the first place. It'd been a waste of time and an embarrassing way to spend two hours.

She headed straight back to her dorm and buried her nose into a business textbook to take her mind off it all, but the diagrams were all the same blue as the hair under Corey's black cap.


	3. A Headwind

Chapter 3: A Headwind

Laney rushed to clean the practice room before Meck's band arrived. It had been used for a party the night before and the janitors had done a poor job of tidying up the place.

"Everything alright, Laney? Do you need a hand?" Meck asked as he walked in with his guitar in hand. Ricky came in with his keyboard and a jumble of wires and gestured a greeting.

"Oh, hey!" Laney waved. "I'm just getting the place cleared out." She lugged a trash can to the opposite side of the room and finished picking up the wrappers and napkins scattered on the ground. "Could you leave this outside the door, Meck?"

Laney and Ricky folded the tables and stacked the chairs; afterwards she moved them to a corner of the room while Ricky began plugging in wires. Meck started unpacking his guitar. A few employees passing by peered into the room with curious eyes.

"Make waaay for the BEST part of the band!" John and Corey, carrying the drum set, arrived boisterously. They put down the equipment next to Ricky and his keyboard.

Corey placed his hand matter-of-factly on John's shoulder as if to correct him. "No, John, the best part of the band is _moi._" They laughed. Corey's attention turned to Laney. "Hey, did you end up eating anything last night, Lanes?"

"I was fine," she replied in a detached tone. She kept her back to him and tried to focus on her paperwork. There had been new instructions and information brought in that morning, and it seemed that the band would be responsible for providing background music for a commercial in addition to a jingle. Meck, while checking his guitar for any damage from a bumpy car ride, watched Corey and Laney closely.

Laney felt an arm wrap around her shoulder. Corey craned his neck to look at her papers, his hair almost stuffing itself into her mouth. "What's all that? Looks pretty complicated."

"Don't touch me," she muttered under her breath, shaking off a confused Corey. She scowled at him. "We can't fool around," she said louder to the other band members. "You guys need to have a jingle and background music written and recorded by the end of the week."

"But isn't that in four days?" asked Ricky. "We're not miracle workers, the hell do these people expect?"

"They did give us a larger-than-average commission payment." Meck had his guitar on and ready to play. "But Laney's right. Let's get to work. I had an idea on the way here, what do you guys think of this for the jingle?"

Meck let loose a string of chords. He replayed them at a faster tempo, then stopped. "And we could sing like, da-da daa da-da."

"Ehh," said Corey. "I dunno. Maybe if you - wait, was this what you played?" Corey played a few chords on his own guitar. He strummed a modified version of the original tune upon Meck's confirmation. "I know it's still bad, but it's a little better, isn't it?"

Laney gave Corey a cold stare. "If you knew it wasn't good, then why would you ever play it?"

"You're not even playing, Lane, just lemme experiment a little."

Ricky and John looked awkwardly at Laney and Corey, then glanced at Meck. The corner of the lead singer's mouth had turned down the slightest bit, but he didn't say a word.

Laney returned to flipping through her papers. Corey cleared his throat and attempted the jingle again. "How's that?"

Ricky nodded in mild approval. There was a crash, and John bent down to pick up the cymbal he'd inadvertently whacked off.

"You know you guys have to use the slogan, right?" said Laney. "For the jingle, I mean."

Meck replied, "Of course. We're just trying to get some ideas going."

Thirty minutes passed. Then an hour. Then two. There was a forty-minute lunch break in the practice room before the band continued, but the jingle was far from done.

"Guys," whined John, who was lying belly-down on the floor. "Guuuys," he reiterated when no one responded.

_"What _is it, John?" said Laney. Her hair was a mess from how much she had pulled at it all morning, and she was exhausted. She could scarcely believe how little they'd accomplished, and she was still trying to understand why Corey of all people had to be in the room with her the entire time. It was all his fault, she thought. All his fault. All _Corey's _fault. Corey's fault. Corey's fault. Corey's fault.

John rolled over onto his back and sprawled his arms and legs. "It's like 1:30 and we don't have _anything _down for the jingle. Are we even gonna make it at this rate?"

"Yeah, man, we still have background music or some crap." Ricky was mindlessly tapping a B flat key on his muted keyboard. "Laney, technically you're in charge of us, ain't you? Can't you get us an extension or something?"

Laney shook her head. Her obese folder lay unattended on a chair. "No, sorry. I'm just an intern."

The group, all of whom had either flopped onto the ground or were slouching from a lack of both inspiration and energy, were quiet for a few minutes.

Finally, Corey spoke up. "Lanes, do you have any ideas?"

Laney gritted her teeth. "I quote you - 'You're not even playing.' Do you think I'd have any ideas, then?"

Meck sat up. "You've been awfully rough on Corey all day, Laney. Calm down, will you please? He doesn't mean any harm."

Laney rolled over on her side to face the wall. She wondered how bad it would look if her manager or some other high-ranked executive walked past the open-door practice room and saw them all lolling around.

She forced herself onto her feet. "I'm going to the restroom," explained Laney solemnly. No one said a word as she stepped out the room.

When she returned, Meck was standing outside the door. He stopped her in the hall.

"Laney, look," began Meck. He scanned her facial expression. "I - I don't know what, if anything, happened between you and Corey, but you need to work it out on your own time. For your sake and ours, please figure it out." Laney, clearly pained, looked away. "He's not a bad guy," he added.

"What do you want me to do, apologize?"

Meck sighed. "Look, what I mean is, you two need to resolve your differences. Reconcile. Or at least agree to disagree."

Laney looked up at him, shook her head, and chuckled a little. "Sorry, but I don't think I can do that." She took a step towards the doorway.

Meck stepped in front of her. "We can't work with this atmosphere, Laney. At least put aside your personal problems. Just for a few days." He held out his hand. "Deal?"

If only promises weren't so hard to keep, thought Laney to herself. She shook his hand anyway.

Meck smiled and let her pass. As she walked in, she could feel everyone's eyes bearing down on her as if they were hoping her trip to the bathroom had bestowed upon her a tune for the jingle. Laney stopped to look at them and said, "Sorry, guys, I still got nothing."


	4. A Young Man

**Author's Note: Sorry - this took way longer than I thought it would because of a ton of exams and competitions. The chapter also turned out to be a lot longer than I first planned, whoops! **

**I have APs and a competition in the next 3 weeks so there will not be a chapter until the third or fourth week of May. Thanks for waiting, and hopefully the length of this chapter makes up somewhat for the length of the wait.**

Chapter 4: A Young Man

Only a disjointed set of chords had been set to paper by the time Laney and the band closed the day. Meck, putting his hand on her shoulder, reassured her that he would continue working on it at home.

"And don't forget your promise," he added.

Laney packed her things and zipped up her jacket. She caught Corey looking at her, and his gaze flitted to his guitar case. She dared not glance at him again and after bidding a frankly awkward farewell to Ricky, Meck, and John, she walked out the practice room, went down the elevator, and left the building.

Laney couldn't help replaying the day in her head on the bus ride back to university. Why had she been so unprofessional? Wasn't she always so much more disciplined, more calm, more rational than this? What did Ricky and John think? Was Meck really going to do work at home? Why did Corey make her so uncomfortable? What did he expect? What did he want? Why was he even _there?_

She stepped onto the sidewalk, feeling worse than when she had boarded the bus. A stone-faced man, a woman with shades, a warmly dressed girl, and a heavily-tattooed bodybuilder pushed past her. Had she been able to take the time to sit down to lunch with them, perhaps they might have all been friends - but the strangers offered no comfort.

"Laney!" A tanned, black-haired girl approached her. "Are you going to the party, too?"

"Hey, Ellie. And no, I didn't hear of one."

The girl giggled. "I thought _everyone _knew about it. Well, want to come with me? You and I, we'll be two singles hunting for guys!" She laughed again at her own rhyme.

Laney managed a small smile. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not really looking for anyone."

"You really ought to get back in the game. There are guys out there who'd _die _for your brains and your curves and those - "

"Alright, alright, knock it off, Ellie," said Laney, taking a swat at her in jest.

"But you'll go?" pleaded Ellie, who pursed her lips into a pout. "_Pweeeaaase_."

Laney rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright." I could use a bit of alcohol anyway, she thought to herself. She still had to figure out what to do about Corey. "Just don't expect me to get any guys. Today's really not that kind of day for me."

Ellie put her arm around Laney. "Aw, girl, _every _day's that kind of day! Trust me, you'll feel _so _much better once you find love again." She turned to Laney. "It makes me want to cry, how this pretty face has never kissed a guy."

"It's not like I haven't - "

"Never fear! I'll help you find the guy who's right, even if it takes all night!"

Laney rolled her eyes again. But, she thought with forced optimism, at least someone cared about her. Yet as Ellie dragged her friend across campus, Laney felt herself sink into her earlier gloom. Strangers offered no comfort, and sometimes friends weren't much better, either.

Laney sat, beer in hand, watching the ruckus of the party. She was fairly certain the same song had been played four times already and muttered to herself jokingly that the DJ should be fired. Perhaps, even, replaced by a band - ha, if she'd only been 13, then perhaps she'd be sitting in a garage with Kin and Kon and Corey and not some stranger's house.

What would he say then? "Those grad students need a DJ - but that's where us, Grojband, comes in! We'll play at the party and BAM! _New fans!_"

And of course, her rebuttal: "But grad students aren't going to let a bunch of 13-year-olds into their party. Trina won't even let you into her room."

"Sure they will!" Corey would put his arm around her, his other arm outstretched to demonstrate his grand vision. "They don't have to _know _we're 13."

"I'm 14," Kin and Kon would say.

"Same thing."

Laney could never understand why it was she missed her pre-college years so much. She was enjoying herself at university and she'd found new friends. She had no trouble finding guys to go with to dances or parties; it simply was that none of them were relationship material. She'd learned a lot from her failure with Corey, thought Laney to herself. Repeating the same mistakes would be -

"Not in a mood to join the party?" A fairly well-built young man took a seat next to hers; unlike almost everyone else in the room, he seemed quite sober.

"Not really," she answered. Her old train of thought suddenly and entirely derailed.

"It's alright," he said. The young man fiddled with his thick, ornate watch. "I tend to sit off to the side as well. I've never been much of a partyer."

Laney raised an eyebrow. "Really?" she said; "I'm honestly pretty surprised. You don't seem the type."

The young man smiled. "My friends say that to me often. They also tell me that I probably would have had a girlfriend by now if only I was more outgoing."

"That's funny."

"Hmm?"

"I've been told the same a lot. But about boyfriends." Laney looked into her half-empty beer. "I actually did date occasionally, but it never went anywhere." She chugged the rest of the beer.

The man laughed. "You don't seem the type, either."

"You think so?"

"I've noticed that you spend a great deal of your time with guys," he explained. "I thought you would have had at least two or three boyfriends by now."

"I had one," admitted Laney, who was thinking of getting another beer.

The young man pushed up his glasses and smiled gently. "Then how, pray tell, has someone as pretty and good-natured as yourself only ever had _one _boyfriend?"

Laney furrowed her eyebrows. "I see you're taking the opportunity to hit on me."

"Oh, no, I don't mean it that way at all, really. It's an honest question." He raised his hands as if to gesture surrender.

Laney scrutinized his expression. Partially from a genuine need to talk to someone and partially from the influence of her liquor, she finally said, "I had a boyfriend in high school. We were close childhood friends and we, you know, started going out. We broke up before we went to college, though." She stood. "I'm gonna get another drink, I'll be right back."

"Don't drink too much," said the young man as she left. He repeated his caution when she returned.

"Nah, this is my second. I'm done after this one." Laney cracked open the can. "So anyway, I had a boyfriend in high school but we broke up before college."

"Mhm."

She took a gulp. "I've got a problem with him, though," she said.

The young man shrugged. "I don't see why not, seeing that you two broke up."

"No, I mean I've been suffering awkward encounters with him lately."

"Ah." The young man ran his finger over his fancy watch as Laney slowly spun the can around. Bud Light. Nutrition facts. Bud Light. He looked up when she opened her mouth to speak.

"I never thought I'd have to think about him again, since we were going to different colleges in different states, which I thought was good, because" - gulp - "because then I didn't have to see him or anything. And I didn't. For seven years. But by some ridiculous coincidence I have to work with him for a few days on a project for my internship."

The young man simply nodded. The nutrition facts came back around.

"So my ex-boyfriend invited me to have coffee with him at some place and I couldn't stand it. He just pissed the hell out of me."

"What did he do?"

"He - " Laney paused. She shook her head. "He didn't _do _anything specifically. I guess I was pissed that he could just walk in and act as if we were still on good terms."

The young man shrugged. "Maybe that was his way of making amends."

"No, he would have just said sorry from the get-go. I know him well enough."

"Alright." The young man nodded slowly. "How does this all wrap up to why you've only ever had the one boyfriend, then?" he said, grinning.

Laney eyed him in a slightly irked manner. "You're really not letting that go, huh."

"It's the million-dollar question."

She took another swig of beer. It didn't taste good anymore. "I just know that things were never the same when I started dating again. It just never felt right."

He nodded. "So you miss him?"

"No, I hardly thought of him over the seven years we didn't see each other."

"Maybe you keep comparing him to your new dates?"

Laney shook her head. "Nah."

"Are you sure? Perhaps you simply haven't let him go. You were childhood friends, after all; I can see how it would be hard to forget him."

She glared at the young man. "Look, pal, I'm way over this guy. I just need to stop being pissed at him before I go back to work tomorrow."

The young man took a deep breath. "If you say so." He rubbed the face of his watch. He was about to open his mouth to speak again when he saw her stand up from her chair. "Are you leaving already?" he asked, visibly surprised.

"Yeah, I need to, you know, have some time to think." Laney tossed the two beer cans into a nearby trash bin.

The man stood up as well. "Shall I walk you home?"

"Area's pretty safe."

"At least allow me the honor." He bowed, inducing a laugh from Laney.

She rolled her eyes. "I permit it, then, good sir." She stuck her tongue at him.

A shy moon hardly dared to show itself from behind opaque clouds. The city lights pushed out any possible view of the stars, and bright signs and car headlights made poor compensation.

"I think it's only proper to know the name of the lovely lady I'm escorting," said the young man in a cheeky manner.

Laney shot him a cold stare. "I don't need escorting. You're just along for a walk. And there you go, hitting on me again, eh." She checked the time on her phone.

"Sorry." He cleared his throat. "My name is Stephen. I'm studying chemistry."

"I'm Laney. Business."

"Impressive." Stephen nodded slowly. "Ah, and, if you don't mind me asking, why do you object to being hit on?"

Seeing that he had gotten the message, Laney breathed a quiet sigh and regretted his companionship a bit less. "Sure, it's nice to know people think you look good, but... at some point, I realized that people don't do it because they're nice." Laney kicked away a half-crushed bottle. "People do it because they just want to _get _with you. It pisses me off."

"Did your old boyfriend do that?"

She paused. "I don't know," she answered. "I don't _think _so."

"Then he was probably a good man, hmm?" Stephen smiled.

Laney looked at him. He had his head turned up to gaze at the starless sky; he seemed content enough. Corey a good man? she asked herself as she turned her eyes back in front of her. "It's not that simple," she rebutted. "And good men aren't always good boyfriends."

"I'm aware. But you needn't be angry at him anymore, I suppose."

Laney shrugged.

"Anyway..." Stephen peered at her curiously. "Are you _sure _you've moved on from this ex of yours?"

She groaned. "What makes you think I'm not?"

"It just seems as if you're rather ambivalent about him. I find it odd that you claim to detest him yet agree to have coffee with him, and then protest his apparent offensiveness when he didn't do anything offensive in particular."

"It's - " Laney clenched her fists. "I don't like him. Seriously. He's frustrating and he never thinks things through, and he apologizes at the end only to do it all over again later. "

"But he's a good man."

Laney threw her hands in the air. "Alright, alright, he's not _bad, _but my point is, I'm done with him. Period. End of story. No sequels."

Stephen grinned and shook his head, but didn't say another word. Laney caught him and added, "You don't have to believe me. I'm just still mad at him."

He shrugged. "What for? Just let it go. Being cross about him after seven years is horribly unnecessary."

"Euuggh." She waved her hand as if to dismiss the subject.

They remained quiet until they reached campus. Laney chewed over Stephen's advice. Maybe she was taking things a bit too far after all. Or even if she had a right to be angry, if Corey wasn't mad at her, then it'd be easy to befriend him again and get her internship project back on track. Be practical, she thought to herself. She wouldn't have to see him again if she didn't want to. She hoped.

Finally, Stephen said, "I truly feel I should say this in spite of your claims, Laney. If you like him - "

"I don't, buddy."

" - from the way you've been talking about him, you probably do - "

"Thick skull there."

" - just let things happen naturally."

Laney knocked lightly on his head. "Oh, it's hollow!"

Stephen chuckled and tapped the side of hers. "Nothing but rock in here, I'm afraid. And very dense, too."

"It's dense because of my concentrated smarts," replied Laney in jest. "Anyhow, I think I know what to do about Co - my ex now."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Like you said, he's not bad, and I guess I don't need to get so worked up. You're right, it's really all in my head. And I do need to get the project done." Laney smiled. "Thanks."

"You're quite welcome." Stephen put his hands in his pockets. Both opportunistic and feeling a bit guilty, he finally allowed himself to entertain an otherwise long-lingering thought.

"My dorm's this way," she said at the fork in the pathway. "I guess I'll see you around."

"Wait," he said.

Laney blinked, but this had happened too many times for her not to guess the next words out of his mouth.

"Would you like to exchange numbers? Yes, you _are _pretty, but you're also nice to talk to." He saw Laney about to interject and he spoke hurriedly. "We needn't go on dates, but perhaps if there are any social events, we could go together as friends?"

She hesitated, but quickly decided there wasn't any harm in it. "Sure." She turned on her phone. "I guess I owe you one for helping me out of a rut anyway."

"Would you like to come with me, then, to my fraternity's formal dance next Friday?"

Well, that was quick, thought Laney. "Uh, okay."

Stephen's face lit up immediately. "That's great! I'll let you know the details later this week." He rubbed his watch a bit nervously; perhaps out of embarrassment, she surmised.

After keying in each others' numbers, they parted ways at the fork in the sidewalk. It was starting to get cold and Laney's jacket did little to keep her warm. She walked briskly to her dorm and, after locking the door and throwing her bag onto the floor, dove into by a cozy blanket and some much-needed solitude.


End file.
